


Cannibal — A Supernatural/ Criminal Minds Crossover

by ForeverAfandom



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, M/M, Murder, Rape, Violence, Werewolf, cannibals, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverAfandom/pseuds/ForeverAfandom
Summary: It always starts in some sleepy, rural town.The motel beds are always hard and the airport is always hours away.It’s just another case for the BAU. And it’s just another hunt for the Winchester brothers.But sinister things are afoot, and a serial-killer-turned-werewolf is never a good sign.—————•—————Sam and Dean find themselves in a tight spot as the BAU learns that, not only are the Winchesters not FBI, but are also hunting something a bit more than human.With the time between the violent murders decreasing, the Winchesters and the BAU must work together to keep another woman from falling prey to the Cainville Cannibal.And, if there’s a little romance on the way . . . well, who’s to stop it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Spencer Reid/Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

TW: Murder, Blood, Death, Rape

“I’ve already gone over this with the police,” the man, Alan Valdis, muttered. 

His fiancée, Sarah Baker had been kidnapped, raped, and murdered two months previous. Her body had been found  _ inside  _ a scarecrow. A farmer had only found her thanks to the smell. 

An autopsy initially showed that she appeared to have been attacked by an animal, and then raped and hidden in the scarecrow all postmortem. However, that theory was discredited after the blood and tox results came back. 

Not only had her heart been removed, but it had been removed without any medical precision, and it had been removed, apparently, by hand. Meaning, without tools. The rest of her organs had been shredded — also by hand. 

The cherry on top was that she had been the first. Since then, three other women had been found. Each one had been kidnapped from a high class, urban home, they’d all been hidden someplace rural, and they all were missing their hearts. 

Sam leaned forward, a kind expression lining his face. “I know. And I’m so sorry to ask you to do this again. It just helps the investigation if we hear everything from you.”

Dean nodded along as Sam spoke. “Just, to start with the basics, is there anyone who might’ve wanted to hurt Sarah?” 

_ Knock! Knock! Knock! _

Dean startled and turned around to face the door. Through the window, he could see two men. Both in suits. 

Feds. 

The real feds. 

Alan Valdis seemed to think the same. “There’s more?”

Sam stood and ushered Alan to stay seated. “I’m sure there was a mix up. Nothing to worry about.” 

He shot Dean a pointed glance — as if telling him to be on his best behavior — before walking over and opening the door. 

“Hi, I’m Agent Morgan, this is Dr. Reid. We’re with the FBI.”

Sam frowned and held up his badge. He kept it open long enough to not be suspicious, but brief enough so that they couldn’t get a proper look. “As are we. I’m Agent Parkin, over there is my partner, Agent Page.”

Dr. Reid narrowed his eyes. “What department are you from?” 

Dean spoke up now. “Criminal Investigation.”

“Why did Bowdich send you?” Morgan asked. “We’ve got the case.”

Reid shook his head. “Morgan, we could use as many eyes as possible. They might be helpful.” 

Even though Reid sounded sincere, there was a glint of mischief in his eyes as he watched Sam. 

Morgan didn’t seem to notice as he nodded. “Yeah, alright.” He stepped inside, past Sam, and walked towards Dean. “What do you guys have?”

“Not much yet. We had just gotten here, really.” 

Sam sat back down next to Dean while Dr. Reid stood to the side. Occasionally his eyes would flicker to Morgan or to Sam and Dean, but, for the most part, he watched and listened to Alan Valdis intently. 

Morgan had a notebook out and was jotting down everything Alan said that held any importance. 

“Sarah was . . . amazing. Everyone loved her. She was Prom Queen her senior year, and not because she was the asshole kind of popular, but because she cared enough to talk to people. She remembered things. If your grandmother was sick, she asked you how she was. If — if you got a promotion, she would talk to you about how it was going. She was the kind of person to light up the whole world.” Alan put his head in his hands. “Who would’ve wanted to hurt her?”

“Was there anyone who came over in the days before she went missing?” Reid asked. “Whoever took Sarah had extensive knowledge of the house — she probably knew him.” 

Alan shook his head. “No one that I can think of. I mean, she taught a chess class at the high school. Sometimes other teachers or staff would come over. You know, just to talk. Again, everyone  _ loved _ her.” 

“What about inside the house?” Dean asked, fairly annoyed that the two FBI agents were asking such lengthy questions. “Any weird sounds? Smells?”

Alan shook his head. “Uh, no. Not at all. Everything was . . . it was normal. She wasn’t paranoid or anxious. She was  _ happy.  _ Her and her bridesmaids had just started looking at — at wedding dresses.” Alan bowed his head. His shoulders shook with sobs. 

Sam reached over and patted his shoulder. “We’re almost done. Just, what night was she taken on?” 

Reid spoke before Alan could. “March 13th.” 

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. March 13th hadn’t been a full moon. If a werewolf  _ had  _ taken Sarah, they’d done it on a night before they changed  _ or _ they were a pureblood werewolf. Sam didn’t like either of those options. 

Dean seemed to be thinking the same thing. He stood and extended a hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Valdis. We’ll let you know if we need anything more or if we find something.” 

They said their goodbyes and made their way outside. As soon as the door closed behind them, Reid and Morgan rounded on Sam and Dean. 

“You’re not FBI.” 

Sam’s heart stopped. “What? Of course we are!” 

Reid crossed his arms. “Your badges are out of date. That enough is proof. Not to mention your questions, your knowledge — or lack thereof — of the case, your —”

Dean cut in. “Look, I don’t know what you’re on about, but we work with the Criminal Investigation Division. If you want to talk to the head of the Division, I’ll put him on the phone.”

Morgan shook his head. “We don’t need to talk to whoever you’re going to put on the phone. We know you’re not CID. What I don’t know is why you’re forcing yourself into our investigation.” 

Sam sighed and cast a side glance to Dean. 

A beat of silence. 

And then another. 

Reid and Morgan were waiting for an answer. Suddenly Sam felt like a child again. Waiting to get chastised for something silly. 

Finally, he spoke. "My name is Sam. This is Dean.” He took a breath. “Do you believe in monsters?”

That seemed to take the both of them — not to mention Dean — aback. 

“Like . . . Dracula?”

“Sorta.” Sam nodded. “They’re all real. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts. Every nightmare you’ve ever had, that’s our reality. Dean and I, we hunt them.”

Morgan stared, eyes wide. “You’re — you’re joking.” He laughed. “So, what, demons, then?” 

“Yes. Demons are real. Angels too, while we’re at it.” 

Now it was Reid’s turn to laugh. “Really? Okay, okay, I’ll bite. What’re you looking for now? If you’re here, you must be looking for some sort of monster.” 

“We think it’s a werewolf,” Sam said, turning to Reid. “Werewolves take their victims hearts.”

The taunting in the FBI Agents’ voices was clear and sharp on their tongues, and yet, Sam pressed on. If they had to, they could always call Cas. 

“However, working together may not be a bad idea,” Sam continued. “The werewolf’s actions are on par with that of a sexual sadist. The removal and eating of a heart is routine with werewolves, but the way they’re practically liquefying their victims’ insides . . .” Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I’ve never seen that before.” 

Reid stared at Sam for a moment. He was a smart man. He would fit in perfectly at the BAU. He was, of course, wrong about it being a sadist. The wounds had been made postmortem. But, with training, he could make a great agent. And, on top of that, he was charming . . . he would be a good person to fill JJ’s position. Especially with the eyebrow-furrow-thing he did — highly effective. Maybe Reid could convince Hotch to allow a new Communication Liaison to be brought in. 

“All I’m saying,” Sam cut Reid out of his thoughts. “Is that we may be looking for someone who was a serial killer  _ before _ they got bit.” Sam paused. “It would’ve had to be a pureblood for them to be changing outside of a full moon. That means our killer will remember everything that happens — everything they do.”

Morgan, who had appeared rather amused at the beginning of Sam’s explanation, seemed a bit more serious. “You actually believe what you’re saying.” 

Sam tried his best not to roll his eyes. “Of course I do. I’ve been doing this since I was, like, ten.” 

Morgan ran a hand over his face. “Fine, but I’m going to need some more proof.” 

Sam had been expecting that to come. He turned to his brother. “Call Cas.” 

Dean frowned at Sam. “Yes,  _ mother,” _ He said, his voice rising an octave to fit the silly accent he put on. 

As Dean stepped away, sending a prayer to Cas and explaining the situation, Reid spoke up. “Who is Cas?” 

“Dean’s . . . angel.” He felt his cheeks flush. He knew how strange that sounded. But what could he say? Dean’s friend? They were more than friends; that Sam knew. But were they a couple? Could Sam accurately say that?

Morgan scoffed. “Tell me you mean a significant other.”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “Cas is an—”

“Dean?” 

Morgan uncliped his gun and pointed it towards Cas as he appeared with a flutter of fabric next to Dean. 

“What the  _ hell?!”  _ Morgan hissed. “Who are you?”

Cas turned away from Dean and faced the scene before him. “I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.”

Morgan stared, mouth open. “Prove it.”

With a frown, Cas held a hand out and, in an instant, Morgan’s gun was in his palm. “Were you going to shoot me with this?” The angel sounded amused. “It wouldn’t work. Dean’s tried it before. It just ruined my coat.” 

Dean nodded obediently beside Cas. 

Morgan seemed to be reevaluating his entire life. 

“I had the same reaction,” Sam assured. 

“So God really is real?” He breathed. “He’s like — he’s real?”

Dean shrugged. “Real, sure. But he cares about us as much as a fish cares about oxygen. He’s been missing for . . . a  _ long  _ time.” 

Morgan looked down, a furrow creasing his brow. Reid was still hung up on the angel. 

“Wait, so, everything you told us was real?” He looked to Sam. After all, he seemed to be the brains of the two. Well, three, now. The angel and other brother were bickering about something already. 

“Yes. Everything’s real.” Sam paused a moment, allowing Reid to think. He continued, “Is this your entire team? Or are there more?” 

“More,” Reid swallowed. “There’s six of us total, five in the field. We’ve got a technical analyst, Garcia, back at the BAU.”

Sam nodded. “Great. We . . . kinda have a technical analyst. Her name’s Charlie.” 

Reid stared a moment longer. “We’ve got to get you back to the others. If we’re working with a — a  _ werewolf _ , they need to know.”

Morgan, who had rejoined their conversation only a moment prior, said, “What else can you tell us? I may be able to talk to Garcia, get some information to her that could be useful.” 

Sam took a moment to think before Dean cut in. Reid hadn’t noticed when he and the angel ceased their argument. “Unless the killer started out a cannibal when he was human, it’s likely he started his wolf phase by mutilating animals. Cattle, deer, maybe horses or sheep. When the animal hearts weren’t enough, he would’ve moved on to humans. But, before that, the raping and murder would’ve increased as well as he grew more powerful.” He drew a breath. “So, have your techy look for animal mutilation spikes at the same time as rape and murder spikes.” 

Morgan nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He hesitated. “What’s your analyst’s number? I’ll send it to Garcia. They may be able to collaborate — find something that way.”

Sam nodded and gave Morgan Charlie’s number. 

“You’d make a good agent,” Reid noted to Sam as they made their way back to their respective cars. 

Sam nodded. “Thanks. I wanted to be a lawyer but . . .” He hesitated. “It’s a long story. There’s actually a book series about everything that kept me from finishing school,” he laughed. The idea of he and his brother as fictional characters in a book still somewhat amused him. 

Reid nodded his head. “What’s it called? I’ll read it later today.” 

“I’ll have Charlie send you an electronic copy,” Sam laughed. “But it’s a series. And a long one at that. It’ll take you a while to read.”

Reid smiled. “No it won’t. I can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Sam stared, mouth going slack. That . . . was a lot. 

“And, ask her to send it in a printable format. I don’t like electronics.” 

“Right, yeah, okay,” Sam sputtered. “Will do.” 

Reid nodded. “See you in a minute.” 

“Sam,” Dean barked, calling for his brother through an open window. Cas was already situated in the backseat. 

“Coming!” Sam called back before turning to Dr. Reid once more. “See you in a bit.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Evidently, word of the FBI’s presence had spread to the media. As soon as Dean pulled into the police station behind Morgan and Reid, they were swarmed with the press. Cas seemed genuinely nervous. 

“What are they doing?” 

Dean turned around, meeting Cas’s wide-eyed expression. “I’m sure they’re here to cover the case. See what the FBI know.” 

Cas frowned but fell silent. Dean turned the car off and about pissed himself when Morgan wrapped on the window. Sam, Dean, and Cas all stepped out of the car, meeting the two agents around the hood. 

“I’m assuming you have little to no experience with the press?” Morgan asked, jabbing a thumb at the squabbling mess of reporters. “So, a few pointers, don’t say  _ anything _ . Make sure you keep your mouth shut as we head inside, okay?”

Dean wanted to snap about how Morgan wasn’t in charge of them and how the FBI  _ needed  _ him and Sam on the case, but he stayed quiet. No need to make an enemy out of an ally. 

The walk through the mass of press was . . . uncomfortable. Cas stayed close to Dean, practically stepping on his feet. Sam was large enough that the crowd practically parted around him. So, as long as Dean stayed behind Sammy and kept his mouth shut, they were fine. 

Inside the station was quiet. However, it was anything but peaceful. The air was tense and people had their heads in case files and computers, looking for anything to help with a lead. 

“Who are you?” Was the first thing Aaron Hotchner said to the trio of hunters as they walked through the door. 

Dean stepped forward. “I’m Dean. This is Cas and that’s my brother, Sam.” 

Hotch regarded Dean for a moment. His eyes weren’t harsh, but there was an edge to them. And, frankly, Dean could understand. With a serial killer out and about, the BAU had their hands full. Finally, Hotch turned to Morgan. 

Morgan cleared his throat. “We should talk somewhere private. They may have the best lead we’ve gotten, yet.” 

Hotch nodded, ushering Sam, Cas, Dean, Morgan, and Reid into a conference room. 

“We should get the others. It’ll be best to only have to go through this once,” Reid said, picking up a stapler and pulling it open before pushing it closed again. He repeated the process. 

Hotch looked like he wanted to ask questions, but he didn’t say a word as he left to get the others. 

Prentiss and Rossi both looked rather confused as they were steered towards the conference room. Once introductions were done, Hotch closed the door and crossed his arms. 

“Alright, what’s this about?” 

Sam sighed. However many times they gave ‘the speech’, it never got any easier. 

“Do you have a kid, Agent Hotchner?” He finally asked, going for the monster-under-the-bed-is-real approach. 

Hotch nodded. “I have a son.”

“Is he scared of the monsters under his bed or in the closet?” 

Hotch was silent for a long moment. “He’s scared of  _ a  _ monster, yes.” 

The rest of the team seemed to tense. Sam noted this, but moved on. 

“They’re real. Those monsters your son is scared of, they’re all real.” 

Hotch stared, his silence profound. The only noise was the A/C unit and the ringing of phones from outside the room. “I  _ know.  _ That’s why I’ve still got a job.”

Sam sighed. Maybe that wasn’t the best approach for a man who, in a sense, hunted monsters for a living as well. He turned to Cas. “It’ll be easier if you just . . .  _ show  _ them _.”  _

Cas glanced at Sam. He looked tired. Finally he spoke. “What Sam has said is true. Monsters are real. Not the kind  _ you _ fight — not humanity — but those hidden inside and outside of its jurisdiction. Vampires, werewolves, wendigos, demons, banshees, gods, faeries, ghosts, and more.” Cas, though he didn’t need it, drew a breath. It was something he’d picked up from Sam and Dean. “I myself am not human. I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, and Hotch all stared. They had the same disbelieving looks that Morgan and Reid had been supporting. 

Cas turned to Prentiss. “You have a cold.” 

Prentiss stared. “I — yeah, a little one. But, I’m fine.” 

She argued that anyone with open eyes could’ve noticed that. Her nose was red and stuffy. But it  _ was  _ just a cold. No fever. Nothing that could interfere with her work and nothing she could spread to the others. 

Cas stepped forward, hand outstretched. He pressed two fingers to Emily’s temple and they all watched as the redness in her nose and cheeks faded. 

She froze, her mouth open in a perfect ‘o’. “How did you do that?” 

“I told you,” Cas said, the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips. “I’m an angel.” 

Prentiss looked to Morgan and then to Reid. 

But, Rossi still wasn’t convinced. “You’re going to need a hell of a lot more than that to convince us that you’re an  _ angel.”  _

The smile that had been on Cas’s face fell. He cocked his head at Rossi and then back to Dean. Cas took a step forward. “Do you have a sensitive stomach?” 

But, before Rossi had a chance to answer, Cas gripped his shoulder and they were gone. In a flutter of feathers and fabric, they’d disappeared. 

Hotch flinched back as he saw the empty space where Rossi and Cas had been standing. “What the hell?!” He rounded on Sam and Dean. “What just happened?” 

Dean shrugged. “Agent Rossi and Cas just went for a little fly.”

A loud knock made them all jump. On the other side of the door was a grinning Castiel and a wide-eyed Rossi. 

Prentiss practically tripped over herself to pull the door open. She let Rossi and Cas back in before turning to Sam and Dean. “I have no clue what’s going on, but, whatever you came here to say . . . we’ll hear you out.”

Sam let out a breath. “Thank you.”

So, he told them everything Dean and he had told Morgan and Reid. He told them their assumptions about the werewolf and about who — or rather  _ what  _ — said werewolf had been before it was bit. 

The silence afterwards was profound. Rossi had found his way to a chair and sat down, Prentiss was leaning against a table, and Hotch had his hands folded behind his back, eyes fixed on his shoes. 

“This is a lot,” Hotch said after a moment 

Sam let out a breath. At least they were acknowledging that he’d said anything at all. “It is. You’re all taking it very well.”

Prentiss ran a hand through her hair. “The strangest part of all of this is the fact that I believe you.” 

Reid stepped up next to Sam. “Good. Cause our unsub could strike again at any time.”

“The most important thing for you to know is that our killer won’t be coming out of this alive. Silver bullets will do the trick, but, it’s best if the police stay out of the case as much as possible,” Sam said. 

Dean nodded. “Set them on a false scent. That’ll be the best way to keep them away from all of this. That way they won’t inevitably die.” 

There was a moment more of silence before Hotch spoke up. “Then we go about this as we usually would. We start with Sarah Baker’s contacts. Morgan and Dean, you two talk to Garcia and, uh —”

“Charlie.”

“Talk to Garcia and Charlie. Get them going on social media, phone calls, Alan Valdis’s security system. Anything they can think to check.” He turned to Sam and Reid. “You two go talk to the chess club and the other teachers at the school. See who knew her. You know the drill, Reid. Prentiss, Rossi, and I will take care of the police. I can’t imagine they’ll be too happy if they realize they’re on a false scent, so, we’ll have to come up with something good.”

Prentiss grinned. “I have a few ideas.” 

—

“So, how long have you been doing this?” 

Sam chuckled. “That’s a complicated answer. I’ve been in this life since I was a baby. My mom got killed by a demon, Dad devoted his life to finding the demon and killing it. I stopped for a while though. Went to college. Got a girlfriend. Tried to have a life.”

“What happened?” 

Reid was driving him and Sam towards the high school. 

Sam sighed. “Uh, Dad went missing and a demon killed my girlfriend. I left with Dean after that. Went to look for Dad.” 

Spencer was quiet for a moment. “What was her name?”

“Jess.”

They fell into a strange silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Sam found himself scrambling for something to talk about. 

“So, you’re  _ really  _ smart.” 

“I am. I have PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering. And I have Bachelor’s in Psychology and Sociology.”

Sam laughed. “Damn, Doctor Reid, what do you do in your free time?” 

“Ironically, I read.”

“And you told me you read fast too, right?” Sam continued, Spencer’s joke going over his head. 

Now it was Spencer’s turn to laugh. “Yes. I ‘read fast’. Approximately 20,000 words per minute. The average adult reads around 200 to 300 words per minute. I, uh, actually got made quite a lot of fun of in school for it. But I didn’t have to put up with  _ that _ for too long. I graduated when I was twelve. And I’ve got an eidetic memory, which means I’m able to remember pretty much everything. When I was younger, my mother used to read me passages out of books and I would repeat them back to her a day or two later. It was a fun little game.  _ Oh _ , and she would also . . .” Reid hesitated. “Sorry. That was — sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble.”

Sam shook his head, listening intently. “No, no, go on! Seriously, you’re amazing to listen to! You’re like the brilliant people we learn about in high school. But all of them are already dead. You’re very interesting.” 

Reid kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Thank you. But, uh, we’re here, anyways.” 

Sam hesitated. He truly was fascinated by Reid. Was that rude? Maybe he shouldn’t have told him that. Sam worried his lip, hoping he hadn’t offended the agent. 

“So, you ask your questions, Sam, and I’ll ask mine,” Reid said, parking the car. “I won’t interrupt you if you don’t interrupt me. Deal?”

“Deal.” 

“Great! We’ll start with the students who participate in the chess club. Anyone who sticks out, we’ll ask Garcia and Charlie to look into.”

Sam nodded along as Reid continued talking. He went over what to do if someone ran from them, how to tell when someone was being suspicious, and what to do if someone pulled a gun.

The inside of the school was familiar and bland. White walls lined with posters about clubs, organizations, or just with random quotes that related to nothing in particular. Halls like these used to feel crushing, a weight he couldn’t shake. 

They didn’t feel like that anymore. Not to Sam, at least. Maybe it was the fact that he had a friend — or at least an ally — walking the hall with him. 

Ahead of them was the cafeteria, currently empty. It was past lunch time. In fact, the school bell should ring at any moment, signaling the end of the day. 

As if triggered by the thoughts in Sam’s head, the school bell sang an obnoxious tune and instantly kids began flooding the halls. 

Some regarded Sam and Reid with odd looks. Sam couldn’t blame them. He was taller than every one of them and Spencer had a large pistol on his hip. 

“Maybe you could tuck that away a bit?” Sam asked, noting the fear beginning to spread over some of the students’ faces. 

“What?”

“Your gun. Tuck it away. You’re going to cause a stampede of panicked students.” 

Reid looked down at his hip and back up at Sam. “But I’m with the FBI,” he said. He looked genuinely confused. 

“They’re not going to know that, Dr. Reid. They’ll —”

“You can just call me Spencer, Sam. It’s not like there’s much formality to this whole mess. You and your brother popped out of nowhere and dropped the ‘monsters are real’ bomb.” Some of the students glanced at Reid anxiously as the word ‘bomb’ reached their ears. “And now we’re doing a rather informal investigation of a dead Chess Teacher.” 

Sam hesitated. Most of the students passing them in the hallways were truly beginning to grow worried. They had started to weave and push their way through the crowd. “Come’re,” Sam said, grabbing Reid by the wrist and pulling him into a classroom. “You’re scaring them. Let’s just wait until they’re all gone.” 

“Gentlemen? May I help you?” 

Sam looked towards the sound of a rather deep voice. A young man, maybe late twenties, was sitting behind a desk, pen in one hand while the other rested on the keyboard of a computer. 

“I’m sorry, we’re — uh, we’re here about Sarah Baker. Doctor Reid here was startling the students a bit with his gun, understandably so. We decided to just wait until they had all dispersed. I’m sorry if we’ve interrupted you.”

The man waved a hand dismissively. “Not at all. Just grading the students’ essays.” His eyes fell back to the paper. “Do you mean the Chess Instructor, Sarah Baker?”

Reid moved to sit in the student desk opposite the man. “We do. May I ask your name?”

The man offered a smile. “Of course. I’m Mr. Theodore Eden. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Doctor Reid and this is my partner, Agent Parkin. We’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Sam moved to stand behind Reid. He nodded his head as Spencer introduced him. “So, you knew Ms. Baker?”

Mr. Eden shrugged. “Only by title. She was a bit of a legend. Our Chess team hadn’t won a single tournament in the history of our school. Then, Sarah Baker comes round and we’re winning every single one. Without fail.”

Spencer nodded and drummed his fingers against the desk. “Did you  _ ever _ speak to Ms. Baker?”

Eden shrugged. “Nothing more than a hello as I left. Neither of us were particularly chatty.”

Sam took a moment, speaking up. “What high school did you attend, Mr. Eden?” 

“Oh, I was homeschooled. My mother was a stay-at home-mom. Taught me everything I know. She’s the reason I wanted to be a teacher. Although,” he chuckled softly and gestured to the papers littering his desk. “Public school is  _ nothing  _ like homeschooling.”

“What about your father? Was he around when you were younger?” 

Eden flinched. “No. Died when I was a boy.” There was a brief pause. His smile and relaxed posture had dropped. “This is beginning to feel like an interrogation.”

Reid offered a smile. A smile which, to Sam, felt exceptionally fake. “Not at all.” Reid stood and gave a final smile. “Sorry to barge in, and thank you for all of your help. If you think of anyone or anything that may be able to help us, you can call the police hotline.”

As Reid rambled on about contact information, Sam took a moment to glance around the room. He could feel the hair on his neck stand on end as his heart began to race. 

To say the room had a theme would be an understatement. And Sam could kick himself for only noticing it now. Posters of the moon hung in various corners, small, painted purple flowers Sam recognized as nightshade seemed to taunt lycanthrope mortality, and, most telling, were the various wolves. 

“Mr. Eden?” Sam asked, cutting Reid off. 

“Yes?”

“The students. Do they have any specific rumors about you? You know teenagers and how they like to gossip. What with all the murders, we don’t want anything ill-willed spreading about the teachers.” 

Eden laughed. “They have one  _ completely  _ absurd rumor that’s been going on since the beginning of the year.”

“Oh?” 

Reid cast a strange look at Sam. 

“They enjoy the mythical —  _ fictional,  _ you know?” 

“I am sure,” Sam urged. 

“They say I’m a werewolf.” Eden gestured to the posters. “It is understandable. I just find the moon and wolves fascinating. The way the hunt. You know they don’t actually howl at the moon? They howl to communicate with other members of their pack.”

Reid turned back to Eden. “I did. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Eden. Call or visit if you think of anything. Thank you for your hospitality.” 

Eden nodded and watched as they left in silence. 

Sam and Spencer didn’t bother with the chess club at the moment. Instead, they headed for the car. Once they were safely inside (as Sam kept shushing Reid when he tried to speak), Sam turned to the doctor. 

“Sorry. Werewolves can hear for ridiculous distances. It’s him. It’s gotta be.” 

Reid nodded. “He was lying about his schooling and father. We need to call Garcia.” 

“And Charlie.”

Spencer smiled. “And Charlie.” 

As they pulled out of the lot, Spencer regarded Sam with a wide-eyed look. Something nearly cartoonish on his face. “You did very well in there. I must say, I am impressed.” 

Sam smiled, warmth spreading with the compliment. “Thank you. I love my brother, but it’s refreshing taking a case with a bit of space. I feel like I have more room to think.” Sam chuckled. “Or maybe your brain’s so large that I just get to inhabit a bit of it.” 

Reid stared at the road and muttered something Sam couldn’t quite make out. 

“What?”

Reid glanced back over, a nearly startled look taking place. “Just — have you thought about joining the BAU? You would be incredible. You already are!” 

Sam felt the same warmth of praise. “I don’t know if I could leave Dean. He always manages to die when I do. Beyond that, we’re legally dead in all 50 states. And, even if we weren’t, we’re wanted mass murderers.” 

Reid nearly swerved off the road. “What?! Dean’s died? Multiple times? You’re dead? And wanted for murder? What did I miss?!”

Sam snorted. “Yeah. It’s a really long story. We didn’t do any of the things we were framed for, though. Just, to calm your worries. And, yes, Dean has died multiple times. As have I for that matter. We, uh, we have friends in high places.”

“How high?!” 

Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Ever heard of the archangel Gabriel?” 

Reid was quiet for a few minutes. “I’m not convinced you aren’t a figment of my imagination, Sam.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m afraid I’m an unreliable narrator of my own story.”

“You’re stable, aren’t you? How else would you get past the FBI screening?” 

Reid shook his head. “Not like that. It’s difficult to explain. There’s something just so . . . fictional about you. About  _ all  _ of this. And yet, I know you’re real.” Reid reached over to poke Sam’s shoulder. “Yup. Real.” 

Sam grinned and asked, “Do you really think I could work in the BAU?” 

“Why would I lie about that? You’re observant, strong, you have information on things the rest of the team has only recently learned, you’re clearly smart, and you, as you say, ‘have friends in high places’. You would make the perfect agent. We can talk to Garcia about clearing charges and, uh, legally reviving you.” 

Sam’s grin grew even wider. “I would love that!” 

Reid nodded. “Great! That’s great!” 

They fell into silence once more before Reid seemed to reanimate. “Oh! I need to call Morgan.”

“Yeah, alright. That’s probably a good idea.”

Reid pulled out his phone and Sam could faintly hear Morgan talking on the other end. They drove on, Reid talking to Morgan and Sam beginning to contemplate much more than just this case. 


End file.
